


Harry Writes Lyrics to Diary Tom

by aroundloafofbread



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry is a shitty songwriter, Harry is also a bad singer, Just bored, M/M, Tom Riddle suffers, which leads him to an epiphany
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 08:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11847498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroundloafofbread/pseuds/aroundloafofbread
Summary: The lyrics are bad. Diary Tom is flabbergasted.The one-shot story in which Harry wants to be a singer-songwriter and Tom Riddle suffers the consequences.





	Harry Writes Lyrics to Diary Tom

**Author's Note:**

> I love Chamber of Secrets the most. I lost count of exactly how many times I've read the book. I read it so many times that I actually dreamed of this weird lyrics thing. And here it is.

Harry had a secret. He wanted to be famous. Oh of course he was already famous as the Boy-Who-Lived. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to be famous for something he _did_. Back then, when he still didn’t know about magic, about his fame, and all the baggage that came with it. 

Harry wanted to be known for his own special skills and talents. He wanted to be a _singer-songwriter._

Well at least that was the case before he discovered his talent at DADA and Quidditch. Now being an Auror or a professional Quidditch player were his new career goals. It was certainly more prestigious in the Wizarding World and less likely to cause a negative stir.

But he never did forget his first dream.

He remembered taking the old radio that Dudley threw away after he broke one of the shiny buttons. He would hide it under his cot in the cupboard under the stairs and listen to some of the songs when he was locked in. He had all these fantasies about leaving home and busking in one of the busy streets of London and starting rumours about the soulful songs by a talented young kid in overly baggy clothes with the voice of an angel. And he’d eventually work his way to a record label, and reveal about his unhappy childhood in an interview. In his childish dream, he wouldn’t just be surviving anymore then, he would _live_ , he would be able to afford anything he wanted – food and toys. 

Until Dudley found out he took the radio and proceeded to smash it beyond repair. Of course Harry was older now. At twelve, he understood that success didn’t come so easily, and he was more likely to be cheated and taken advantage of than find a reputable recording company. 

But it was just as well that Harry’s first dream would never be fulfilled, for he was truly terrible at writing lyrics.

Unfortunately for Tom Marvolo Riddle, he had been given the dubious honour of reading these lyrics.

It happened after Harry picked up a black diary that was magically holding together despite it taking a swim on the flooded floor of the girls’ toilet. 

Tom’s fate was sealed in the wake of the disaster where that dwarf forced a Valentine poem on him and the unforgiving release of the contents of his bag. For Harry, as unobservant as he usually was, noticed how none of the ink spilled had stained the diary. (His eyes were green emeralds, not fresh pickled toads, thank you very much!) He took the diary to his bed in the dorm room, closed the drapes, dripped some ink on it, and watched as the ink marks faded away. 

Surprised, Harry stared at it for a few moments before he realised the invaluable opportunity he had been presented with.

Here was a diary so special, he could write all the lyrics to his own songs and no one else would be able to read it! No one would get anything out of their snooping! And would you look at that inscription! TMRiddle! Was that not a fantastic stagename? Or maybe for Harry, HPRiddle would work beautifully. Now that was a mysterious sounding handle. He just hoped the original owner of the diary would not be unhappy for his taking inspiration on his anonymous celebrity name. 

For such a special event, on the very first page, he would write the lyrics to the first song he had ever thought of. 

Tongue pushing against the back of his teeth in excitement and concentration, he began to write on the diary in his squiggly hand.

  
Here begins the reign of HPRiddle!

There was a green-eyed fella,  
He was a record seller  
So much money he made  
That it was flowin’ outta his fingertips

He had a house of his own,  
With gardens where no Petunias were grown.  
All his furniture was stone,  
Where no drilling would be shown.

And that munneh’s flowin’!  
It’s –  


As the verses faded while he wrote, some words reappeared, startling Harry into inaction.

Then he squinted more carefully in the dimlit surroundings of his bed.

These were definitely not his words. The penmanship was too perfect.

_[Who is HPRiddle? Who are you? And what in the name of Merlin are you writing!?]_

___________________________________________________

Tom was minding his own business (which was all about getting a physical body), when he felt himself leaving the presence of Ginny Weasley’s weakening lifeforce. The magic he had taken from her spiked with emotions as he felt more than a smidgen of anger. 

Then he was thrown unceremoniously into a wet place, he surmised it might have been the black lake. He would have to punish the stupid bint for daring to throw him away!

It was later that he felt some difference, someone else had picked him up. A presence whose magic seemed oddly familiar. He was then dried and his pages were perused.

Nothing happened afterwards. But Tom was patient. He had after all, waited for a good fifty years. 

He knew something had changed when he was suddenly bathed in a large amount of ink. Not that he was able to make use of it, for there was no spirit, no soul involved in this spilling of ink.

When the first drop of ink by his new victim fell upon his pages with intention, he felt the person’s magic start to hum with reverence. There was nothing new there, a Horcrux such as he was able to charm almost anyone.

Then the person began to write, just as Tom expected. Except the first words stunned him.

Here begins the reign of HPRiddle!

He was utterly shocked. Who is HPRiddle? Someone with the same disgusting muggle last name as he? Did his abhorrent muggle father give birth to another child!? Or grandchild, for 50 years had since passed. Tom had been planning on ridding the world of that filth though. Unless… unless he failed somehow…

He needed to know! If he could find his original soul and communicate again…

Furious, he started to form a reply when he noticed the person had written more words.

Words that made utterly no sense.

 _Munneh?_ Did this student think a misspelling was considered cool?

He quickly penned a reply and then waited for the other to write back.

> Oh my god. You write back! You are the most amazing book I have ever seen. Okay I have not seen any other books aside from textbooks. But this means you can give me comments! About my lyrics! Are you like the book version of those magical mirrors that comment on appearances? Wow. Just… wow.  
>  I am in love! Not only can I write my lyrics safely, I get someone, I mean something, to critique it too! Oh and, HPRiddle is ME! Harry Potter Riddle. Cool name right?!

 

What the fu – 

Okay. No. He would not swear. He would not – 

_Harry fucking Potter-Riddle!?_

Ginny did not tell him this! Was Harry Potter somehow related to him? Because either the Potters married the Riddles, making the boy a very close relative, or he was somehow Lord Voldemort’s descendant, maybe an illegitimate one. What sort of Greek tragedy was involved here if his own descendant had murdered him?

Or another possible case, where the two surnames Potter-Riddle would exist was if Voldemort had married Harry Potter, his defeater, for some sick reason, which made him Tom Riddle’s consort.

No no no no no!

None of these scenarios were in any way acceptable!

And that absolute gibberish he had written were lyrics?! 

Horcruxes could have headaches, Tom was sure of it, because there was a massive one building in his head right now. 

Potter’s words were replaying in his mind mercilessly: “I am in love!” 

No no no no no no no no…

_____________________________________________

When Potter-Riddle (ugh) first asked him about the Chamber of Secrets, he debated on the merits of answering or not. It could have been a trick question, because if the boy was a relative of any sort, he could know more than he was letting on. Was this a bait of some sort? Would it incriminate Tom? It was for the same reason that Tom did not tell the Boy-Who-Lived that he was a memory in the diary, as he had originally planned before he knew his victim. No, he let the child believe that he was merely the book’s consciousness.

In the end, Tom chose not to reply.  
_____________________________________________

 

It had been two weeks since Harry picked up the diary. He had not stopped writing bad lyrics in it. And he would always sign off as HPRiddle. Somehow, writing to the diary named Tom had rekindled his passion for music. He had begun to write new songs, and this time, about his life in the wizarding world.  
This time, it was a song about Quidditch games. Real close to his heart.

You and me, baby!  
We will rule the world together!  
Yeaaaa~

Those people, they keep tryin’  
Tryin’ to bring us dowwwwn  
But we keep fightin’  
Fightin’ all arouunnndddd

We’re flyin’ on the brooms  
Don’t take no bludger to our heads  
Cause we keep flyin’  
Flyin’ all arounnndddd!

Even when the sun is out  
When the rain is pouring  
When the giant black bat  
Hovers across the – 

_[It could do with a lot more improvements.]_ Tom wrote back, cutting Harry rudely off.

Tom had decided after the first three nights of terror that he would give up his original plan to send out a magical lure to the Weasley chit. He would instead rapidly draw away Harry Potter-Riddle’s (oh he really shuddered from just thinking about this) magic and gain a physical body more quickly.

And he would save the world from the horror that was Harry Potter… Riddle. 

Tom groaned.

But lately it seemed that the lyrics were speaking to him. World domination, wars, victory. Was it a hidden message that Potter was trying to send to him? For the first time, he was struck with overwhelming uncertainty.

__________________________________________________

By the third week, Tom had absorbed enough energy to become more aware of his surroundings. He swore he could hear Potter-Riddle singing his lyrics out loud.

This time it was something about rooms filled with round loaves of bread and treacle tarts.

Tom decided that Potter-Riddle was not just hopeless at writing songs, he was also hopeless at singing them. He would have suggested the boy find a professional teacher for his music if the boy wasn’t doomed to die.

___________________________________________________ 

It had been a month now. Tom was severely confused. The act of drawing magic from Harry didn’t seem to weaken the boy at all.

And that magic was so familiar; how could it be? Was this why Harry had defeated his older self? As a Horcrux, he could only rely on the bits and pieces of information told to him by Ginny and Harry. He strongly disagreed with the form of a diary as a Horcrux, once he was made into one. There were so many better choices, he had not even liked this diary all that much, having bought it off some silly muggle shop in Vauxhall. There were better items to be made into a Horcrux. For example, one of those golden plaques at Gringotts, which would offer him an endless stream of information from the wizards passing through. He would tell his older self once they had joined up, should they decide to make another Horcrux.

Still, Tom was getting a lot stronger now, soon he would not need to read the lyrics of Potter the Horcrux. Oh wait he meant Potter the Horror. All these weeks of bad lyrics were messing with his concentration.

…

A Horcrux!

Harry is a Horcrux!

Impossible! It couldn’t be… could it?

And yet it was the only thing that made sense!

And if so, how could he have missed it? 

It explained the familiar magic. It also explained the brother-wand as the boy had revealed in one of his lyrics.

Tom was shocked speechless. He was going to need a very long time to think about this.

_______________________________________________

 

Tom looked over at Harry’s sleeping form.

He had drawn on some of his fellow Horcrux’s magic, then proceeded to absorb Harry’s, for the remaining amount required to build himself a physical form. He had forgone Slytherin’s noble work of killing Mudbloods for the moment, and the panic at Hogwarts had subsequently died down. There was more to tend to, for he strongly suspected that his older self had succeeded in the plan to make seven horcruxes and probably had no idea that Harry was one as well. In return for his patience, he was once again housed in flesh and bone. Harry on the other hand, would be tired for at least a week, but he would recover in time.

That way the Horcrux in Harry would not be fully reabsorbed. He rather liked the idea of the Golden boy saviour hosting a piece of his soul.

Tom was also warming up more to the thought of having Harry Potter-Riddle by his side. He would come up with a good plan to take care of the kid who had surely suffered child abuse if his lyrics were a true representation of his life. 

In the end, he was glad he had provided support for Harry’s lyric-confessions at the beginning, no matter how unwillingly it had been initially. It was what led the Chosen One to keep the diary by his side at all times, preventing the foolish Weasley girl from stealing him back in her raid of the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory. 

He continued staring at his Harry. The power nestled in the sleeping form was undeniable. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he also noticed that his boy had lush long black lashes and plump red lips. Harry would grow up beautifully.

Tom cleared his throat and straightened up.

He adjusted his outdated school robes. His original soul was probably too weak to do anything now except inhabit small animals. So he would be the one to initiate the merger. Then they would as one entity, with Voldemort’s experience and Tom’s new knowledge, come up with a perfect plan. Harry’s disgusting lyrics were ringing in his head.

You and me, baby!  
We will rule the world together!

He would definitely sign Harry up for proper singing lessons.


End file.
